Broken
by my.inner.slytherin
Summary: 2 tributes entered in the games. Katsa is Snow's assassin trained to punish the citizens of Panem. Even as a member of 12 the reaping didn't seem to be a concern. Fire is haunted by her past and her family's secret ability. Her biggest worry was what the district would think when she didn't volunteer. Together they ignite the rebellion. AU after Catching Fire Graceling Fire Xover
1. 1 Katsa

Chapter One- Katsa POV

**AN: This is a crossover with the books Graceling and Fire. It uses the characters from those books in the Hunger Games universe. Basically you will notice that Katsa has a supernatural ability for combat, and Po is able to hear people's thoughts about or aimed at himself. He can also see everything in a different way where distance doesn't really matter and he can see things behind him however that misses details such as colour. In the next chapter you will be introduced to Fire who is able to enter people's minds to hear what they are thinking as well as alter thoughts and memories, this also includes mind control. I'm almost certain that as long as you know that the story will make sense to someone that has never read those books. Also I have switched around the timelines so that Katniss and Peeta won the 73****rd**** hunger games and it is now the 74****th**** hunger games.**

**I do not own Graceling or Hunger Games. Thank you for reading.**

_The house looked abandoned. Maybe house was a bit of an over exaggeration, the unpainted wooden boards that made up the walls had cracks between them where the wind whistled through. Maybe I had mistaken the scream for something else. But then, the unmistakable sound of suppressed sobs._

_I think I should help, but maybe I am trying to prove something. Prove that I am not the monster that the capitol made me. Whatever the reason, I take a few steps closer to the shelter. There isn't any door at the entrance; Just a piece of ripped and worn cloth, flapping in the wind. I rip the fabric away. Inside the shack a horror unfolds, only made more terrifying by its reality._

_A young black haired girl cowers in the corner as a coal-blackened man stands over a woman lying curled up, bleeding on the ground. As the man notices me he delivers a fierce kick to the back of the woman's neck. She goes limp and the little girl lets out a more audible sob._

_It's a horrible thing, but I'm used to this. The woman is obviously dead, but the girl still has time. Before the man can make another move I shove the heel of my hand forcefully up towards his nose. It is a practiced move; I can calculate exactly how much force I need to make it a killing blow or a maiming blow. He drops to the ground to join the woman in death._

_I am a monster, but I will be a monster with good intentions._

_I know it was the right decision when the little girl looks up at me, not with fear or disgust, but with gratitude. This was not a one-time occurrence._

_The little girl opened her mouth._

"Katsa!"

How did she know my name, I had never seen her before? Maybe she had heard of me though. District 12 wasn't a very big place, gossip spreads fast. But if she had heard the rumours, then why wasn't she afraid?

She said my name again, louder this time.

"Katsa! Katsa, wake up!"

Then I jolted awake, my instincts forced me to be instantly alert. The knife I kept under my pillow was in my hand before I realised that I had been having a nightmare. I relaxed as I saw where I was. Light streamed in through the cracks between the walls of our small shack. Not the same shack as in my nightmare, but very similar. Po had already left, probably bartering for our breakfast. The little girl was older now, but still young, 12 years old.

"Bitterblue, what's the matter?"

Usually I was left to sleep until I woke up on my own; then again usually I don't have nightmares that make me sleep past my set wake up time. I guess it's true that it's hard to wake up from a nightmare when it's real.

"The president has another mission for you, and you need to have enough time after that to get ready for the reaping."

Bitterblue just barely bit her thin bottom lip at the mention of the reaping. It was the first time that she was eligible to be picked for the "great honour" of competing in the hunger games. After years without her father's abuse that was still the only amount of weakness she would show, and only to Po or I.

Usually Bitterblue didn't reveal any emotions other than her carefully constructed mask, the fact that her mask had broken just that tiny bit told me that she was terrified. Who wouldn't be?

I pretended that I missed her small show of emotion. Acknowledging her feelings made her feel weak. It was a result of her father's treatment. Sometimes I wished I hadn't killed her father so mercifully.

"Where are the instructions?"

My face was emotionless; I had given up on showing my bitterness at the capitol's absolute control. Bitterblue and I made quite the pair, two seemingly emotionless robots having a conversation. If Po were in the room things would probably be a bit lighter, although with how he feels about my "missions" it might not have been.

In answer to my question Bitterblue handed me a thick piece of paper that was folded down the middle. It had the unmistakeable smell of blood and roses. I unfolded it, the capitol seal was clearly displayed at the top of the page, an eagle spreading its wings. Underneath the embossed image was the president's signature, I didn't doubt it was the real thing, very few people knew about my special job; this classified information would hardly be left in the hands of a secretary.

I was surprised that I had been given a mission today. Law required that I attend the reaping, at 17 years old I could still be reaped. It would probably be somebody close by, either a fellow member of district twelve, or somebody in the outskirts of eleven.

I didn't think I was able to be shocked by a mission anymore; I had punished some surprising people. But I was proved wrong by the words written on this card. Very simple yet specific orders

**Find Katniss Everdeen in the third house in victor's village.**

**Restrain Katniss and any others with her.**

**Find Primrose Everdeen, break Primrose's arm while Katniss is watching.**

**Speak only to tell Katniss that she is failing.**

Below the writing there were labelled pictures of both Everdeens. President Snow always made his orders easy to follow and without loopholes. When he first found out about my natural abilities and demanded that I become the law enforcement for some of Panem's more difficult cases. I had resisted. He had ordered me to publicly execute someone; I dragged them into the street and snapped their neck. Apparently he wanted more of a show, more blood, and more pain. After that my instructions were specific, like he was ordering around a simple minded fool. I resented that.

I hadn't resisted after that, especially after I met Po and Bitterblue. They were my greatest weaknesses, but I couldn't live without them.

Just as I finished processing what the instructions required, Po walked in. He held a loaf of bread and a small block of cheese. He looked from the piece of paper in my hand to me. My shock must have shown on my face because his smile faded just a little. As he walked in he set down our meal and hugged us both. As he held me, he whispered in my ear.

"Katsa, he can't control you, don't let him."

Of course I knew what he was talking about, but there was no way to actually accomplish this. President Snow had cameras monitoring every district and every person whom he considered a threat. There was no way to disobey. Po knew about the cameras, that is why his little message came during a hug. So why did he need to make me feel worse.

Po cringed, he had heard that one. I angrily projected my thoughts to him.

"And HOW would I escape the President exactly"

He couldn't answer, it might reveal his ability. Po was similar to me.

When I was young, 7 or 8 years old, a peacekeeper had found me. I had been living alone for a long time and was hiding inside a doorway to get out of the rain that was viciously pounding down. He had seen me huddling there, and approached my hiding place. He had knelt down to my level. His eyes were gleaming dangerously, but his words were gentle and sweet. It was a terrifying mixture. I remember he asked me if I wanted to come to his house. He said it was warm there, but then his hand moved to my thigh.

Without thinking I had punched him in the face. The force of the blow was enough that it broke his neck. The next day the President himself appeared to "offer" me training and a job. I was useless to him until I had learned enough not to outright kill people. He brought me back to the capitol. I trained in the training centre, formally used during the hunger games. I stayed in twelve's rooms and ate more food than I could have imagined.

The training started with me trying out the weapons. I mastered them easily with the help of instructors who came in daily. Soon I started fighting people. For a year my only break from training was when the tributes from the games used the facility.

On my last day of training, I remember Snow watching from behind a protective force field. That fight was a particularly taxing exercise. I was unarmed against 6 peacekeepers in full uniform, firing to kill. My supernatural fighting abilities let me anticipate where a bullet would hit, almost before the trigger was pulled. With almost superhuman speed I was able to dodge the bullets that were continually fired in my direction. Every movement was carefully planned, bringing me closer to my opponents

Once I was close enough the real fighting began. For this drill I had been ordered to injure, but not kill the peacekeepers. I dropped to the floor and tripped the first peacekeeper just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet intended for me hit one of his comrades in the shoulder. Their moment of shock allowed me to deliver a quick jab to their temples, knocking them out. The remaining peacekeepers tried to shoot while I was close to the ground. Springing up to my feet, I dodged just in time. I moved behind the closest one and at the same time as he pulled the trigger, I knocked his hand just enough so that it hit another's foot. Those two were quickly unconscious. Seeing that I only used their weapons against them, the last two peacekeepers holstered their guns. In hand to hand combat they were almost too easy to beat. Their uniform made them clumsy, and they couldn't move fast enough to dodge or block my constant attacks.

When I was done I looked up to see Snow watching me with a calculating eye. That day I also had my first mission. Afterwards I no longer lived in the capitol, I didn't have any extra food at the end of a meal and I certainly didn't have a house. I was just a tool to be used and then put back in district twelve until my next use.

That's why they couldn't find out about Po. Po could read any thoughts that were about him. At first this had terrified me, a person who could tell when I was lying. See through my mask and know what I was feeling even when I couldn't. But Po's abilities had limits. He couldn't just see any of my deepest darkest secrets, it had to concern him. He also could "see" things in relation to where he was. Almost like eyes on the back of his head, but without colour. He could see what was behind a wall and could tell which people meant him harm. They were useful abilities, but they could be useful to Snow also.

There wasn't any conversation while I changed into the President-approved, expensive, skin tight black outfit that was reserved for my jobs.

Before I left I kissed Po and told him that we probably wouldn't see each other until the reaping. I forced myself to sound cheerful to ease Bitterblue's worry.

"We can have a celebration after the reaping. I've saved some money for sweets."

My smile probably looked more like a grimace, but I felt like I had reason to not be smiling. Though I would buy some "we're not dying yet" sweets after the reaping.

I left the shack without any further goodbyes. I knew where victor's village was, everybody did. It was the richest part of district 12, with some of the tallest buildings. I could see some of the roofs from where I was standing.

Walking over to the village didn't take enough time. I pushed past the gate slowly, thinking about how this is the first time in a while now that I had really dreaded a mission.

Everyone knew who Katniss and Primrose were. Last year I had stood beside Katniss when she volunteered for Primrose. We were the same age. We used to be in the same class at school, before I was taken out of school by the president. The teachers would always mix up our names. Katsa and Katniss, we even had the same skin tone and hair colour, though my eyes were much more exotic than her gray eyes. I had had one eye green and one eye blue for as long as I could remember.

Now I had to punish her by hurting her sister. If people liked Katniss, then they were in love with little Primrose Everdeen. She was such a sweet girl, growing up with nothing had taught her to be humble, so now that she was rich she didn't gloat. Primrose was kind to people, but anyone who had met her could tell you that she had a hidden knowledge behind her innocent blue eyes.

And now I was going to barge into her house, for no reason other than to cause her pain.

As I approached the door, I systematically removed all emotion from my features and tried to make my mind empty. I could almost pretend that I wasn't angry at the president for ordering this. I could almost pretend that guilt wasn't gnawing away at me. Then I opened the door.

Primrose sat on Katniss' lap on the living room couch. Primrose had tears running down her face and she looked terrified. For a moment I panicked, thinking that she knew why I was here. Then I realised she was probably worried she would be reaped again. This day probably brought back horrible memories for her, the memory of acknowledging her imminent death.

Katniss was singing softly to her little sister. I had only ever heard such beautiful music while watching this same girl sing to a dying child on live television.

Suddenly I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't hurt these people who had already suffered enough. The rope in my hand to use for binding Katniss seemed to be mocking me; the weight in my hand reminding me that I couldn't just turn around and leave. But I had a plan.

I slammed the door shut to get Katniss' attention. She immediately reached for a knife hidden in her boot. I walked calmly to stand in front of the pair. Katniss had moved to a standing position with Primrose behind her.

I moved fast, knee coming up to knock the knife out of her hand following a feinted punch towards her face. As I had hoped my strategy had worked on the first try, knife skidding across the room. Katniss was used to fighting with a bow; she was poorly trained in close combat. But she wasn't done struggling. Katniss hadn't won the hunger games for nothing.

She punched my stomach with surprising power. I didn't even flinch, just grabbed the hand as it moved back towards her, and spun her around in her moment of confusion. As I tied the rope around her wrists I whispered in her ear.

"I am going to pretend to break Prim's arm."

Once the rope was tied, I grabbed Primrose, who was attempting to get help. I murmured a similar warning in her ear and hoped that she was a good actor. Once Primrose was still I turned back to Katniss to fulfill the last requirement of this mission.

"The President wishes you to know that you are failing."

I brought my elbow down onto Primrose's elbow, I made it look like I was holding her arm with her elbow pointing upwards, but in reality the inside of her arm was what I hit and her arm bent naturally, not in the awkward way it appeared to have been forced.

Luckily Primrose had already been crying and it was easy for her to start crying again. She screamed at the same time Katniss shouted her name, which also happened to be when I brought my elbow down. The combined actions of the three of us should reduce the suspicions of my faking a job.

I wouldn't have made this ludicrous plan if I didn't think it would work. The person watching this video most likely had a poor view, or we would have seen the camera, I knew Katniss could act from what I had seen in the games, Primrose already was crying and their mother was a doctor who could put a false bandage on Primroses arm. So why did I feel as if I had just made this huge decision that changed everything?

But I didn't need to think about this anymore. The job had gone quickly. I could probably see Bitterblue and Po before the reaping. I left the house, not bothering to close the door or untie Katniss; just putting as much distance as I could between us.

When I got back to the shack, I found that Po and Bitterblue had already left for the reaping. Snow had already had one of his minions bring the money I had earned from my last mission. I breathed a sigh of relief. He had thought the mission was a success. I put the money under a loose floorboard where we kept anything of value.

I took my long dark hair out of the messy bun that I had used to keep it out of my face during the mission. There would be no elaborate hair do in preparation for the reaping, though I had to change out of my work outfit.

The stretchy black clothing soon joined the money under my feet and I changed into a plain grey blouse and my nicest pair of black pants. I didn't want to stand out, but it was the unofficial rule that you had to wear nice clothes to the reaping. These clothes _were_ about as close to dressed up as I wanted to be. After living in the capitol for a year I had decided that fashion was not my thing.

My sturdy yet flexible boots and loose hair would not change because there was a chance I would fight to the death on television. If I go to the hunger games there is no way they are putting me in a colourful dress to parade me around. I probably wouldn't die if I was in the games, but that didn't mean I was going to pretend it was a celebration like those stuck up capitol fools.

Po always finds those kinds of rants ironic because I always insisted on dressing up Bitterblue. I imagined Bitterblue in her girly knee length blue dress. It brought out her pale blue eyes that were sometimes hidden beneath her straight black hair. I hope she wore that dress, she almost never did. She always had been forced to act like an adult, so to her wearing a dress like that would be childish. It might be hypocritical but I felt like she needed to stop putting up masks around people and regain her missed childhood. Some things were just much easier said than done.

I should have stopped thinking, try to desensitize myself so that I didn't feel anything for the next boy and girl sent off to their deaths. But I couldn't. the day had been too eventful; I can only hope that this year's reaping is uneventful. Somehow even thinking those thoughts made me feel horrible. Today will change people's lives forever, and all I can do is hope I'm not affected.

As I'd been thinking I had started walking into the town square, I hadn't look out of place walking like a zombie, not paying attention to the world around me. Most of the kids I pass don't seem to be paying attention to what's going on around them. I wonder what would happen if I waved my hand in front of their face.

It looked eerie, all these children who looked to be marching to their deaths. But that wasn't true, only two of them would be.

Now it was my turn to have my blood taken. I hardly noticed the pinch as I searched the crowd for Bitterblue and Po. If we were in any other district I probably wouldn't have found them, but here in twelve there weren't many people who made an easy living and for those who didn't it was hard to survive until reaping age. And there they were, searching for me as I had been searching for them. I waved once as I walked to my roped-off age group section.

Po smiled at me as I took my place beside the other 17 year old girls. I gave a small smile back. I was worried for him. There were only two people I had ever loved, Bitterblue…and Po. Bitterblue was like my little sister, or even like a daughter, but Po… he was something more.

"Attention."

I was instantly alert, almost going so far as to jumping at the voice that had broken my thoughts. It was just Effie; trying to get the district's attention.

The only thing that set this year apart from the others is that when Effie called the mentors up to the stage, Peeta and Katniss walked up to the stage. Haymitch didn't get to trip all over Effie this year. Instead, Panem's newest celebrities looked uneasily down at the crowd, wondering which of us would die under their care.

Then it was time for the Mayor's speech. It was the same speech as last year. With the same video. The only one who paid any attention was Effie, in her colourful capitol outfit with a matching wig. This year her outfit was entirely gold, she had been obsessing over the colour since the last games when district twelve had actually won. I guessed it was because of the mockingjay pin that Katniss wore.

All too soon the video was over and Effie was marching over towards the glass orbs. She was cheery as always, standing between the two bowls of names.

"Well than, ladies first!"

Saying that you could hear a pin drop would have been an understatement. I could hear the rapid breathing of more than a few people, others didn't breath at all. I almost told them that suffocating themselves would only cause death faster than being reaped.

Effie dropped her hand gracefully into the first orb. For a moment I understood Effie's constant enthusiasm. She had to convince herself that it was all a game. Who could face the reality that every year they picked two children to gruesomely die while their family watched them on a screen far away from them.

But in a moment that sympathy vanished.

"Bitterblue….I'm sorry but there is no last name…" Effie giggled nervously, confusion written on her face.

I turned to my baby sister, the girl I had found in that bloody shack years ago. I had never understood Katniss' sacrifice before. I had admired it, but never understood it. Until now.

Bitterblue was wearing the blue dress that made her look like a little girl, but with her stony face you couldn't tell how young she really was. She was looking right at me.

"Don't do it Katsa. I don't need your help, there is no childhood for me to lose."

Her voice echoed clear through the silence, nobody so much as moved.

Except for me.

This wasn't a desperate rush like Katniss had.

As Bitterblue looked down at me from the stage I stepped forward. I spoke in a loud whisper but in the silence that seemed to engulf me it was a shout.

"And that is why you are staying here. Because I won't let them send you to die when you haven't even learned to live."

Then louder.

"I volunteer as tribute."

The world had stopped for that single moment, but as always it started moving again, all too fast.

As I took Bitterblue's place, she glared at me. I looked away from her, not wanting to see the unmasked hatred that Bitterblue could show so convincingly. But when I looked away from her, I caught Katniss' eye. She recognised me from our earlier encounter. A look of shock crossed her face before she hid it. I guess we all have our masks.

Effie let out a nervous giggle.

"A volunteer two years in a row! And what is your name?"

I looked over the crowd. Effie shoved the microphone in my face.

"Katsa"

Another giggle escaped Effie.

"Do people not have last names anymore?"

Now I was angry, which was probably dangerous.

"Only if you never met your parents."

That shut her up. That's good, giggling wouldn't have been good for her health. But now she needed to pick a male tribute.

I continued looking over my district's head. I didn't need any admiration, any pity. I just looked straight ahead. From the stage you can just barely see between the shops to the seam. My shack was somewhere over there. I might not ever return.

"Greening Grandemalion"

That snapped me out of my daze. I turned to Effie my face blank.

"Po"

She looked at me, confused.

"His name is Po."

And there he was, making his way up to the stage slowly. I threw my idea at him. He didn't nod his head, but I knew he'd heard me.

We stood so close together, but not touching. Both of us were looking over the crowd's head, neither of us thinking. Thinking was too painful.

Effie wasn't very cheerful anymore. I seemed to have that effect on people.

"Everybody put your hands together for district twelve's tributes... Po and Katsa!"

This was when we were supposed to shake hands, but neither of us held out our hands for the other to take. We wrapped our arms around each other and kissed. We kissed before district twelve, before the cameras, before Panem. Everybody was watching, but for a moment it was just us.

And everything was fine.


	2. 2 Fire

Chapter 2- Fire POV

**AN. So this is Fire's POV, I don't own Hunger Games or Fire. Also, I made up her last name; the book doesn't give her a last name.**

My fist crashed into the metallic surface of my bedroom mirror. A million reflective shards shattered and fell to the ground. I looked at them, the sharp edges reflecting crimson blood. I ignored my injured hand in favor of inspecting this beautiful disaster.

I could see pieces of myself in the ruined fixture. Brilliant green eyes stared back at me. The colour was as unnatural as it was captivating.

My skin was as flawless as always, a healthy rose colour bringing out my cheek bones.

Full lips looked as if I had applied meticulous layers of colour. Of course, it was all too natural.

My clothes were not reflected fully as one in the small pieces of shrapnel, only tiny areas visible. I could see a ripped and torn edge, the fabric slowly coming undone and becoming little more than threads. One of the large stains was visible, darker than the brown fabric around it. The worn out pants and shirt were the dullest things being reflected back at me. I always wore the clothing of a beggar, but it had yet to take away from my beauty. I often wondered if I was made more stunning by the ugly costume.

What really caught my eye were the strands of red orange and pink. The colours flowed and mixed together. When I moved, they danced. My hair is more beautiful and deadly than a fire, what I was named for. It is an unnatural colour that comes naturally. I am not natural.

I am a monster.

In the early hours of morning I glided through my apartment. The stars provided light while I cleaned up the remains of my mirror. I kept myself from looking at it. A mirror will never do any good.

I wrapped a clean white bandage around my knuckles. People might assume I had hit a fellow career student, in a way I had hit myself.

Maybe I wished that I had really been punched. It was silly, I was always being injured and it changed nothing. It would be painful and leave a mark, but people's perception of me would not change. I would still be unnaturally and amazingly beautiful.

I still found myself thinking that maybe a black eye would deform my face and make me ugly.

I wasn't hungry but I made myself breakfast. The process of cooking food overcame all other thoughts. I made a huge breakfast because I didn't feel like coming back to reality. The moon watched over me as I prepared a feast.

The sun was just rising when I finished. I grabbed my fiddle and climbed the stairs to the roof. The flat rooftop was bare, except for the door I had come through.

I was able to see above all of the other buildings. The rich part of the city spread out before me, expensive apartment buildings. Large houses with magnificent patios and sparkling pools.

Just beyond that was a more vicious part of town. Small houses with peeling paint slowly transitioned to homemade shelters. Down there it was the survival of the fittest. Peacekeepers often patrolled the rough streets, picking on the less fortunate people who couldn't fight back.

But if you overlooked the human development, that was when the view was truly amazing. Long grasses grew in the sandy earth, before slowly giving way to long white beaches. The ocean seemed to be alive, sometimes it calmly washed over the sand but other times, like then, it crashed into itself. The waves were free and freeing.

I stood on the top of the world as I removed my fiddle from its case. It was the only gift I had ever received from my father. I played a wild melody that gave voice to the ocean as my hair flew in the same winds that were stirring the water. The sun peaked over the horizon and the world was painted shades of orange and pink.

The sunrise. It was the start of a new day, a time when I could be calm while everything around me seemed to make no sense. There was no order to the world. Nothing seemed to stay unchanged or follow rules. But in the few moments when the ocean matched my hair, I could take a break from it all.

I hated my father for many reasons, and I will never understand why he named me Fire in the district of water. If I had been called Sunrise maybe I wouldn't have felt so alone.

I let a single tear fall down my face, I hadn't allowed myself to cry over my father since the day…he died. Everyone knew _of_ Cansrel. But I think I was one of the very few people who knew my father. Cansrel was the worst kind of evil, a monster with a pretty face. Like me.

I had fended for myself most of my childhood, living in an apartment funded by my father but rarely seeing him. I didn't have any friends and spent my days wandering the streets or sitting inside, watching the people around me.

As a child I was at my happiest when my father was home. Finally someone who could understand what life was like for me. I didn't realize that Cansrel was unable to understand. He couldn't sympathize with a little girl who wanted friends, a family. Cansrel did not understand why I would want a normal life.

Why would you want to be ordinary when you could be extraordinary?

But he was the only one who would talk to me as if I was a real person. I loved him because he didn't fit into the two groups that the rest of the world seemed to fall into; those who hated me and those who loved me.

In our time together he tried to help me reach my full potential.

_When I was barely four years old my father let me pick out a puppy. She was the runt of the litter and Cansrel was reluctant in letting me have her. He wanted me to have a big strong dog, a purebred that would make our neighbors envious. Reluctantly he allowed me to take "the mutt" home. _

_I named the puppy Belle, something my father had told me meant beautiful in a long forgotten language. I brought her everywhere with me. I showed my puppy the ocean and the rooftop. I showed little Belle my special places that I had always wished to share with a friend. That was the most fun I had ever had._

_One day when I was five, I left Belle in the apartment while I went to the train station to greet Cansrel. He had been away for nearly a month, but was only staying for a few days. I wanted to make the most of our time._

_When he got off the train, I could barely restrain myself from jumping up and hugging him. Cansrel didn't like it when I hugged him in public. I gave him a big smile, showing the gaps in my teeth. I enthusiastically talked the entire walk back to our apartment. I told him all about losing my teeth and my adventures with Belle. My smile faded a little when I told him about how a girl named June had called me names. He nodded as I recounted the weeks he had missed. _

_I was just about to ask about what he did in the capitol when I saw June in our apartment. The girl was a few years older than me, seven years old and was chubby with baby fat. That was probably why she was bitter towards me; I looked like a miniature adult when I was five. _

_We both froze when we saw each other, eyes locked together. When she noticed my father, her eyes widened almost comically. She shook in terror. That was when I noticed what was behind her._

_My little Belle, with glassy eyes and fur matted with blood. The first feelings to break through my initial shock were of sadness, but they were quickly overpowered by a blinding hatred. Even though I was only five years old I wanted revenge, I wanted her to feel pain for what she did._

_Suddenly I could see her mind, layers of thoughts and memories. I tore into it and was engulfed by thoughts that weren't my own. This girl was a victim of jealousy, one of the first to be driven to extremes because of me. I crushed all of her happy memories, leaving only pain and sadness._

_I drove a girl insane. It only scared me because I didn't regret it._

_When I came to my senses, Cansrel was sitting on the plush living room chair. He was leaning forward and watching me intently. June slumped to the floor, Cansrel ignored her. He looked neither confused nor disgusted. I didn't understand why he was just looking at me, it was not until years had passed that I had come to realize that Cansrel had been proud._

"_I will cancel my business in the capitol for the next week. It seems that you are ready to learn of your heritage Fire." _

_As he spoke he stood up from the chair to walk towards me. I was too confused about everything to understand that Cansrel was going to be staying longer. I just stood in the same spot and watched as he left, carrying June. _

After that day, Cansrel would visit more frequently. He was always teaching me how to break into people's minds. We worked on different techniques, such as sneaking through someone's mind without their realization, planting my own thoughts in their mind. I enjoyed the lessons, always eager to spend more time with my father.

I forced myself to overlook the reason for these lessons and the horrors that were capable with my power. But slowly, I began to doubt.

Cansrel loved to brush my hair. He had forbidden me from cutting it, so it reached past the middle of my back. He would slowly run a brush through my vibrantly coloured hair and talk to me. He told me that my hair was a reminder that I would always be different from people. He didn't understand that this made me more upset than reassured.

He wanted me to use my power to put the ungifted people in their place. They were ugly next to our radiance and their accomplishments were simple next to our power. Their rightful place was at our feet. Some days as a child, I was scared. Because some days, I agreed.

An image of my sweet puppy would force its way into its mind. I remembered the cruelty shown to me, purposely forgetting my own cruelty. That year I was even more with-drawn than before, constantly at odds with myself.

One day I would hate myself, in my mind I was a monster. The next day I would hate all of humanity, they were the monsters; I was not one of _them_, I was something more.

I shook my head trying to get rid of the memories from _Before. _Today I needed to pay attention. I made my way back to the apartment, nibbled on some of the breakfast I had made. I wasn't hungry but I knew that I had to eat.

Every reaping day the academy put on a demonstration for the district. The older and more experienced students would participate in mock duels to entertain people and kick off the betting. I had been participated in the day's festivities since I was eligible for the games. My father's position and my extra abilities forced me to be one of the top students in district 4's prestigious career academy.

Most of the district thought that I would be volunteering that year. It was my last year that I would be eligible, and I had been groomed for the role since I was a child. My father had always been disappointed, year after year, as I refused to volunteer. That year would be the first that I didn't have him pressuring me to enter the arena.

I cleaned up what was left of my breakfast, packing up the extra food to bring to the poor part of the city. Before I left, I quickly put my hair into the tightest bun I could manage, and put on a black hat. I grabbed the bag of food and locked the door behind me as I left my apartment.

I kept my head down as I walked, trying not to gain any more attention then I already did. Once I made it past all the mansions and businesses I lifted my chin a bit more. As soon as I made it a bit farther into the labyrinth of make-shift shelters and run-down shelters, I started to draw more attention.

Children came to tug at my pant legs. They recognized the hat and bag of food, and became exited at the thought of a warm breakfast. A rare smile tugged at my lips as I passed out the food to the hungry children as best I could.

I always looked forward to breakfast and dinner, the times of day when I made the trek into the rougher part of town and give the people a meal that they deserved to have. It was usually the same children who showed up at meal times, occasionally bringing a friend, or dragging their parents in from work.

That day I noticed a child drag in a young man; he looked to be my age and stayed at the back of the crowd, even as the child raced towards me. He locked eyes with her for a moment, he looked skeptical, as if I was handing out poisoned food.

I was always keeping track of the minds around me, making sure none intended violence. I focused on his mind for a second, curious about his thoughts. I barely managed to conceal my surprise when I found that his mind was protected by an impenetrable barrier.

There were very few people who I had met that hid their thoughts from my view. The odd cases where people hid their immediate thoughts from my view, it was usually people who had grown up hiding their emotions. Often maintaining a blank face unconsciously taught you to create a wall around your mind, helping to manage what emotions made it to the surface.

What was odd about his mind was that the wall had no cracks, only a person who was consciously trying to keep another out of their mind would be able to protect their mind so completely. I looked away from him, hiding my pale face. He must have known my father.

As soon as I finished handing out food I left to rush back to my apartment, I tried to convince myself that I wasn't running away from him. I hated to admit it when I was scared of something, my father taught me that fear was a weakness. He was an unknown, as long as I couldn't see into his mind I wouldn't be aware of his intentions, so it was best to avoid him.

I couldn't push the image of his face from my mind. I was a master of reading faces, everyday people looked at me with hidden jealousy or lust. But it was not often that I was looked at in disgust. There was no denying what he was feeling when he saw me, even if his emotions were shadowed. The obvious displeasure shown on his face conveyed his obvious hatred, but few would have been able to detect the underlying signs of fear that were hidden in his eyes.

I was almost relieved. Finally somebody who realized what I truly was. Deep down I would always be a monster.

I picked up my pace as I approached my apartment; I threw my empty bag and hat in the door and left just as quickly. I needed to distract myself.

I wasn't sure how far the academy was from my home, but I sprinted the whole way anyway. I needed to feel the burning of my muscles as they begged me to give them a break. I struggled to keep my breathing steady as I neared the intimidating brick building. I let my eyes wander over the neatly cut lawn and artfully trimmed hedges. Technically I had inherited the building from my father, who had started the school, but I just let everything run like it had before. Keeping up appearances was vital.

Once in the building, I slowed until I was walking quickly. I headed straight for gym four. It was the smallest gym, and my favourite. It had a mix of different equipment. Weapons in one corner along with animated dummies, another space had a simulator for cardio workouts, you could set it for a bike ride through a forest or a jog through the capitol, and lastly there were weights, both old fashioned and new.

This gym was my secret hiding place from the world. Not many bothered to venture into the less used areas of the academy. I set myself up in the middle of the room with the old fashioned weights. These weights were from before the rebellion, I had heard that the design had hardly changed at all from the models that were built before Panem.

I always preferred these to the high tech training equipment that adjusted itself to you level. There was a great feeling of pride when you pushed yourself past what the machines would have allowed. It also took a great deal of pain and determination. It was exactly what I had needed.

It didn't take long for a thin sheen of sweat to coat my body. My gloves kept my grip on the large weights, not allowing them to slip out of my grasp. I used the corner of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my forehead, determined to continue even after I felt the gratifying burn of my muscles.

The distraction almost worked too well. A well-tanned arm reached in front of me to grab the weight that I was currently pressing. Lean muscles strained to pull the bar out from my protesting arms. I jumped up, sea green eyes staring back at me.

"What the hell Finnick? Don't sneak up on me like that!"

He looked at me for a second before bursting into laughter. I just glared at him and crossed my arms over my chest. Meanwhile the famous Finnick Odair did a fake little happy dance. Eventually he calmed down. I continued to give him my death glare.

"Fire; never in a million years has it even crossed my mind to even attempt to sneak up on you."

My glare slowly faded as I remembered that it was reaping day. Finnick's eyes lost their sparkle as he realized my train of thought. He sat down on the bench and I followed suit.

"I get to meet the girl on fire, tomorrow. It should be interesting to meet a former tribute who was almost as famous as me."

He tried to be easygoing about the whole thing, but I knew how much he dreaded his trips to the capitol.

"According to the entire district, this will be the year that I volunteer."

He looked straight ahead, eyes staring off into the distance. I almost missed when he spoke.

"We all have our masks."

I just nodded and checked my watch, trying not to put much thought into his words. The awkward silence seemed to stretch on forever before I spoke out.

"It's about time that I head over to the tournament."

Finnick jumped back up.

"Darn I forgot, that's the whole reason I came down here to find you!"

He grabbed my arm and proceeded to drag me in the general direction of the miniature stadium. I swatted the arm away.

"I can walk on my own, thank you very much."

I tried to sound stern, but a hint of a smile snuck its way onto my face. When everyday was a chore, you learned to appreciate these small moments of peace, however strained it was.

All of district four seemed to be watching us as we walked into the stadium. Our faces hardened into our carefully constructed masks as we presented ourselves to the public. Finnick waved at the crowd, even as his face was emotionless. I lifted my chin a little and settled with losing any and all emotion, making myself into a warrior. I acted how my father had taught me to, always expected to be an intimidating and untouchable figure.

As the top student, I would not be required show off by participating in every duel. I only really had to be there for the grand finally, where I would face off against the winner of the previous rounds.

The first fights had already begun, but the district had stopped watching while I entered. I wanted to tell them that they shouldn't look up to me, that I was a horrible role model for their children. I stared off into the distance, while they started to whisper about how Finnick and I had walked into the stadium together.

The other district's reapings were being broadcasted on a large screen opposite my seat. I mostly ignored them, focusing on the minds around me, trying to maintain the peace as various disputes broke out among the students as well as the citizens.

I only glanced at the screen when I sensed nearly every mind in the stadium focus on the district twelve reaping with a general surprise.

I glanced over to see the tributes kissing passionately in front of the cameras as well as the flustered escort who was obviously just as shocked.

I couldn't help but wonder if there might be real star crossed lovers that year, or if they were just better actors than Miss. Girl-on-Fire.

The rest of the tournament was uneventful until it was eventually my turn. I would be facing off with a male student who was at least twice my size. Wonderful.

A referee announced that we could start. We circled each other for a couple moments while the district held their breath in suspense.

He moved first, surprising me. I guess I wasn't acting scary enough. Of course he was trained to jump into certain death situations with no hesitation. He charged forward with as much speed as his bulk would allow him, which was admittedly faster than expected, but I was much faster.

I decided to put on a show for the audience. I allowed him to hit my jaw, but manipulated him so that he would barley even touch my mouth. The audience gasped as I dramatically staggered backwards, forcing tears to my eyes.

He would never have played along with my act without my influence, it was almost funny the way he hesitated to approach me again. I did my best to pretend that I was an innocent little girl and he approached me slowly.

As soon as he was close to me my face hardened and I stood up straight. With a speed that he could never hope to match, I was behind him. I kicked at the back of his legs, surprising him and effectively knocking him to the floor. My elbow hit the front of his throat, leaving him gasping for breath. I circled around his struggling figure, darting in for swift but powerful attacks.

He continued to struggle to fight back even as I repeatedly hit him in the most painful spots.

My show was over quick, as the referee announced me as the winner. The crowd dispersed to head over to the town center for the reaping and I watched them leave.

I enjoyed that way too much.

As I left a hysterical twelve year old was torn away from her mother on the screen.

I didn't bother searching for Finnick before the reaping, I would say good bye at the train station. I lined up with every other citizen 18 years or younger. While waiting in line I saw Finnick standing with Mags, who would be taking Annie's place as a mentor. He gave me a small smile when we made eye contact. I gave a hesitant smile back and waved before moving up in line and giving my finger over to the capitol attendant to be pricked.

The roped off areas where teens waited to discover their fate were very quickly filling up. I made my way up to the "pen" reserved for 18 year old females. Most of the girls that came over after me moved around so that I was the closest to the isle way. It seemed that everybody thought that I would be volunteering. I imagined that today would be the first of many times in the future where I would surprise everyone by making a decision that the character I presented to the public would not have made.

It didn't take very long for everyone to be in their places, although to some it would have seemed like ages. The district's escort, Celia, made her way up to the stage. She, like all the other escorts, never seemed to be in her right mind. I wondered if it was a job requirement that all the escorts had to be insane, or if that came after a few years of the job.

She wobbled a little on the stairs; I grimaced when I saw the height of her heels. I swore to myself that I would never be caught dead in shoes like those. Finnick walked up to the stage next, Mags' arm linked through his. He smiled and waved at the crowd, winking at a few girls in the crowd. I didn't bother to make eye contact with him. This was not the real Finnick Odair.

The same clip was shown that we saw every year. I noticed the interest and excitement some people showed in watching the retched film, my disgust was hidden under a disguise of bored indifference.

As the film faded out Celia clapped her hands together.

"Now, onto the exciting part!"

She walked to stand in between two giant glass balls, each overflowing with names. Celia held her hands out towards the two orbs.

"Who first, shall it be the ladies first…"

Many of the girls around me let out whoops and clapped.

"…or maybe the gentlemen?"

A roar erupted from the guys standing across the aisle from me. Celia shook her finger at them, as if scolding a small child.

"Well that was not very gentlemanly. We should remember our manners. Ladies first!"

She took a couple of steps over to the orb closest to me, dramatically reaching her arm into the sea of paper slips. She picked one out and carefully, slowly unfolded it. She looked at the name on the paper and her eyes widened. She stayed silent for just another moment yet, prolonging the agony.

In a clear voice that echoed throughout the town center she announced this year's female tribute.

"Fire Kallistos!"

The capitol was going to have a hay day over this; if they didn't know who I was already, than they recognized my father's last name. I buried my shock and fear into the back of my mind. I showed the public a pleasantly surprised exterior, confidently walking up the steps to stand with Celia. She held the microphone to my face, asking if I had anything to say. I took the microphone from her and looked at my district.

"That was much easier than I thought it would be." I smiled at them all, giving a small laugh. "I didn't even need to volunteer!" This gained a small amount of chuckles from the audience. "I guess it is just my destiny to honour my district." I played my part as the happy tribute that everyone expected and handed the microphone to Celia. I smiled at the people in the audience as I completely ignored the reaping of the male tribute.

Only when I smiled at my fellow tribute and shook his hand did I recognize him as the person from breakfast with the impenetrable mind.

Shit.


	3. 3 Katsa

Chapter 3- Katsa POV

**AN: I don't know if there is anyone actually reading this story, but it is a pretty odd combination of stories for a crossover. I will continue to write this because I have a friend who has been helping me that really wants to see this finished. For those who are reading this, I think this chapter isn't that great, Katsa is a bit bipolar.**

_Previously-_

"_Everybody put your hands together for district twelve's tributes... Po and Katsa!"_

_This was when we were supposed to shake hands, but neither of us held out our hands for the other to take. We wrapped our arms around each other and kissed. We kissed before district twelve, before the cameras, before Panem. Everybody was watching, but for a moment it was just us. _

_And everything was fine._

…

I was grabbed from behind by a peace keeper. My instincts took over before realized what I was doing.

I twisted out of his grip, grabbing his arm at the same time and twisting until it broke. Another peacekeeper ran towards me, I ran a couple steps in his direction before jumping out of the way, his momentum carried him forward. I turned and ducked at the same time as a different peacekeeper's fist came close to hitting the back of my head. I knocked his legs out from underneath him, shooting back to my feet to hit the other peacekeeper's wrist, making him drop the baton that he had so kindly swung at my head. He received a swift blow to the temple. As he fell to the ground I turned to the other peacekeeper that was making his way to his feet. As soon as he got his feet on the ground, I hit him in the neck with my elbow.

I bent my legs, ready to spring at a moment's notice. I looked around myself, checking that there were no more attackers. Everyone was looking at me in shocked silence. Effie had long ago feinted. I noticed that a few of the people that were just standing there, frozen, were peacekeepers. I had been wondering why there had only been a few guards.

I turned towards the audience and looked out over the crowd one last time. Then I turned to the camera that had been following me closely the entire time. I stared at the lens without emotion before giving a small bow. I turned my back to everybody and took long, confidant strides through the doorway that Po had already been shoved through.

No one bothered me as I walked down the fancy hallway, yanking the doors open one by one until I found Po. I barely glanced at all the paintings on the wall, gold-framed pictures of long-dead mayors.

They must have been honoured to be the mayor of this fabulous district.

Po was in the fourth door on the right, the guard rushed to the side to let me through the door. The peacekeepers learned quickly, I could give them that.

Red walls with gold accents, made even more horrible by the dark red carpet. A little bit of luxury, bathed in blood. The room was designed as if to encompass the true meaning of the games.

Sitting in the middle of the couch at the back of the small room was Po, with Bitterblue sitting beside him. She was glaring at me as I walked in through the door. I ignored her in favour of sitting beside Po and glancing around the room for possible cameras. I project my thoughts toward Po, hoping that he understood the need to be discreet.

'Snow will kill Bitterblue.'

Po looked into my eyes before speaking.

"I have always wondered what it would be like to compete in the games, I always imagined it would feel very freeing to be able to do things on my own and be in such a wide open space."

'Yes, I should just tell the president that I want to look into other job opportunities and not be under his control.' I was so obviously sarcastic that Effie would have been able to tell. 'I am a highly trained mutt to him, and my only escape will be in my death.'

The president had told me that many times in the years that I spent in the capitol. He would invite important citizens to watch me train and present me to them as his property. When I found a loop hole in the instructions sent to me, he decided that I was too stupid to follow orders and sent ridiculously specific instructions.

"When the people of Panem get to know you," Po stared at her "They will be terrified. They will realize that you are capable of anything you put your mind to."

"Well they don't need to be scared for long. I don't intend to survive and allow you to die."

There would be no chance of another pair winning the games, Katniss and Peeta would be lucky to get out of their situation intact. It was obvious to those that knew Snow that what they had done to show up the capitol would not be forgiven or forgotten easily.

Po frowned at me and Bitterblue frowned at the floor before speaking in a cold voice that she could only have learned from me.

"Yes you will die, then what? Your boss won't be happy that you let yourself be killed off. You are too valuable and he would know that the only way you will lose is if you chose to. I think I would have preferred a quick death in the games rather than whatever he has in store for us."

That was a low blow. Everything I had ever done was to protect Bitterblue.

I grabbed her chin and forced her to look at me; I continued to squeeze her chin as she struggled to move out of my grasp. She was still glaring but stopped when she saw my expression. Even Po flinched when he saw the amount of anger that I had allowed to appear on my face.

_Now you see. I am nothing but a monster._

Po flinched once again and averted his gaze.

I stared into Bitterblue's eyes and let her see the years of anger, violence, and the years of being controlled. I let her see into my blackened soul as she was forced to stare into my multicolored eyes.

My voice was barely above a whisper but I might as well have been shouting.

"I wasn't worried that you would die, if you were in the games than I would have hoped that you received an early death. There are no winners in the Hunger Games. You see some of the champions, and there is nothing left of them. Have you ever killed someone Bitterblue? Purposefully ended their life and watched as the light left their eyes?" I raised my voice a little bit. "Every time you kill someone, a part of you dies. No matter how heartless you think you are, it will always eat away at you."

I released her jaw and she turned away from me to look at the ground. I could tell that she was fighting herself to not rub at the sore spots where my fingers had dug into her skin.

"I always tried to explain to people that I am a monster, that there was nothing left of me. No-one believes me, except my victims. I remember when I was younger, people would be in such shock that a girl so young had come to kill them; they thought it was a joke. Right before they disappeared, I could see the understanding in their eyes. Every single one of them had that moment of clarity, when they realized what I truly was. It was their last expression, and it is how I will always remember them."

I had gotten quiet again near the end and I doubted that Bitterblue was able to hear my last sentence. I still walked away, out the door, not turning back. I didn't hear Po calling for me to come back, I was disgusted with myself. That was too much emotion. I wasn't allowed to say things like that.

I let the anger at myself morph into an anger at the world at everything. I let myself be cloaked in this familiar emotion, so much easier to deal with than pain. Everyone avoided me as I marched out of the town hall. A crowd of people were between me and the train, but they parted as soon as they laid eyes on my ferocious stance and cold stare. Not a word was spoken as I passed the frightened people of district 12.

They didn't know how unaware of the real world they really were out here at the edge of Panem. The closer you got to the capitol the more well-known I was. In the darker places of the capitol, Snow purposefully circulated pictures and tales of my deeds to inspire fear in those that might have thought of rebellion. After his mind reader was murdered, he relied more heavily on fear; it was harder to subdue people who were in control of their own minds.

The young, unaware, capitol children spoke of me as a super hero, chasing down the bad guys and keeping the capitol a happy place to live. Some heard of me, and thought that I was a myth. The most amusing were the people who changed the subject when I was brought up and looked at the ground when they heard my nick names. Those were the ones who had come home one day with an unexplained broken leg, the ones who were missing every finger on their right hand, some of them have two fake eyes and some have "traitor" carved into their back.

Nobody had known my name, but now they were guessing.

When I stepped into the only part of the train with a door open to the outside, I found myself in the dining car with Katniss, Peeta and Haymitch staring at me. I had no idea where my room would be, although I was familiar with the layout of the train, so I was forced to join the group at the table. I fell into the seat beside Haymitch and picked up an orange with one hand while taking a swig of Haymitch's drink.

I easily slipped into my capitol persona; it would be the character that I would be showing the world for quite a while. I gave a small, cold smile while peeling the orange.

"I missed these."

Peeta looked at me with this innocent little puzzled look, and I remembered that he was the only one to survive the games without really killing anyone.

"What?"

Haymitch was just staring at me, examining my face as if he knew me from somewhere. Katniss was studying me like I was a mystery that she just couldn't solve.

"This will be fun." I said with a sinister smirk.

It was Katniss' turn to be taken aback. She raised an eyebrow while Haymitch gained an understanding in his eyes and pushed his chair back away from me. Anyone could tell that he was fearful of me, but not many would notice the hope that was hidden beneath the obvious emotion.

Katniss was undeterred by Haymitch's reaction, and since she couldn't find an answer herself, she resorted to actually asking me.

"Who are you, I thought you…"

My glare cut off the end of her question, effectively silencing her. I gave a fake little smile as Peeta looked back and forth between Haymitch and Katniss. Their obvious recognition of me seemed to be bothering him. He let out an exasperated sigh.

"What the hell do you guys know that I don't?"

My smile widened, and I looked over at Haymitch who was still sitting as far away from me as physically possible, though he did look to be a bit more relaxed. When he saw me looking at him again, he tensed up.

"I'm sure that Haymitch will be able to explain, He should have pieced together who I am by now. I certainly know who he is, and all the trouble that he causes the capitol."

He flinched at that, obviously aware that it was not a good thing that I knew about him. He didn't answer Peeta's question though. I nudged his shoulder.

"Come on, no need to be shy, Katniss and I have already had a nice conversation together anyway. He would have heard of me soon enough, or maybe even...met me."

I said this in a cold mocking voice, playing my part in this game perfectly; barely concealed threats, just the right amount of smirking. Peeta didn't look like he was curious about who I was anymore. Haymitch was just gathering his courage to speak to me when I heard footsteps approaching. Po stood in the door with a blank face.

"Ignore her. She's not always like this," He looked around the perimeter of the room "Just in public situations."

I did a little fake pout, keeping my mask up, even though Po had just ruined it.

"You ruin all the fun."

Po stared at me, and I noticed just how angry he was at me for my little outburst.

"Quite it, Katsa. I don't see why you need to keep up your little persona if you 'don't intend to survive.'"

I slapped my hand on the table hard enough to startle everyone. Fine, if he wanted to know what the real me was feeling at the moment.

"You don't understand!"

Po didn't take that very well.

"Well than make me understand!"

"I am a **monster**. There is nothing that I will lose with death!"

It was such a drastic change from who I was a few moments earlier that the three mentors could only stare with their mouths wide open.

"Oh, so you think I don't notice when you come home from a 'mission' and scrub your hands until they bleed, when you wake up in the middle of the night screaming and then disappear to who knows where. I don't think a monster would care that much."

I looked back at my audience; they didn't need to know any of that. Katniss was staring at me differently know, Peeta was as confused as ever and Haymitch was still wary of me, leaning against the wall.

_I am going to die. Maybe it doesn't matter so much that I keep my secrets from them_.

"Do you remember the day I first met you. You certainly thought I was a monster then."

Po's eyes glazed over for a moment, that day must have been traumatizing for him.

"Actually I remember confessing my trust in you before you knocked me out with a single punch."

_We had only met because he had seen me during a mission. It was a particularly gruesome task. He had witnessed me beat a man within an inch of his life, before I could end him, Po jumped in front of him and tried to fight me himself. We had fought for a moment, and I had been shocked by the skill he displayed._

_It seemed that he had anticipated my every move. He was the first in a very long time to succeed in hitting me. His fault was in expecting me to hesitate after having the breath knocked out of me. I repaid his mistake bringing my knee up to hit his gut._

_I remember thinking that I didn't want to have to hurt any more people than necessary, that he wasn't part of my orders. He had immediately relaxed, his eyes met mine. The colour shocked me. He was the only other person I had met with two eyes of different colour. And his eyes were shocking._

_They almost seemed to glow. One of them was gold and the other was silver, almost like a beacon; announcing that Po was a treasure. Without waiting a moment for me to gather my thoughts, he managed to shock me twice in less than a few minutes. I had thought that it wasn't possible._

_Po had completely lowered his guard. _

"_I trust you"_

_I hit him in the temple. I knocked him out, cold._

_I finished my orders to kill the man that I had beaten; at this point it was a mercy. Then I had dragged Po back to the shack that I shared with Bitterblue. _

_I had tied him to a chair like in an interrogation; he had begun to confess to his abilities. Before he had even started to explain I had guessed at what he could do. I tried to project my thoughts to him._

'_The President is watching, don't say ANYTHING.'_

_Apparently I was a bit loud, because he flinched. But I had saved him from my fate and he nodded at me._

Now I just frowned. That was not one of my best memories, but it also wasn't my worst. I spoke without realizing what I was saying.

"That is one of my few memories where I was scared."

Po tried to lighten up the mood; I guess I must have looked as distant as I felt.

"Why? Because someone finally had enough skill to put up a fight?"

"No… because you told me that you trusted me."

I looked him straight in the eye, daring him reply to that. Po was always impressing me, and he said just the right thing.

"Most people don't think to look beyond appearances and question the real motives."

He didn't make a joke. He didn't make the trust seem stupid. He didn't tell me that I was a selfless, moral person who was a victim of circumstance. He had tried to tell me that before, and I don't think he had given up on that, but I would not have believed him.

"Thanks." I whispered.

I turned to examine the reactions of the previous tributes that had been sitting there the entire time. They seemed to be taking the scene we had made relatively well.

Haymitch laughed, and it was revealed that he was, in fact, drunk.

"This will make a great story. Who knew that Snow's little assistant had emotions?"

I was over in a flash, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pushing him against the wall.

"Except that you will not be telling anyone about what happened or who I am."

His face was white as a ghost. My hand visibly shook from how hard I was clenching the knife I had grabbed off of the table. I swung around as I felt a hand on my shoulder, ready to strike out. I realized that I was over reacting when I saw that it was only Po. I dropped Haymitch and stabbed the knife into the table. I thought that I heard Katniss mutter something about mahogany, but I was most likely mistaken.

"You know what? It would be convenient if you happened to drink too much and just forgot that this ever happened." I closed my eyes for a moment and took a few deep breaths; the stress was getting to me. "Any questions?"

Of course, Peeta raised his hand like he was in school.

"Yes, Mr. Mellark?" I asked with heavy sarcasm.

He glared at me, I had no idea that innocent little Peeta could glare. Maybe everything that I saw on T.V. _wasn't_ true.

"Who are you, and why don't you live in the capitol?"

I plastered a fake smile onto my face.

"Well, my name is Katsa, you'll find out _who_ I am soon enough. I think I've dealt with enough for the night. Which room is mine?"

They all looked questioningly at each other. It seemed like no one knew where they were supposed to be sleeping. Maybe Effie actually _did_ work, instead of just picking out the names of the teens who would be murdered every year.

Everything was lining up against me that day, but fortunately Effie arrived a few moments after I asked the question. She refused to look at me as she bustled into the car, nearly tripping in her mile-high heels. Eventually she came to meet my eyes.

She stared at me for a long moment, seemingly gathering up her courage.

"You will be sleeping in the first room on the right through that door." Effie pointed towards the front of the train.

I remembered that room, if I was correct than it was the same one that I stayed in on my first ever visit to the capitol. I shuddered at the memory. It was a horrible night, I was devastated after having just killed a man and had lead myself to believe that I was being brought to the capitol to be executed. That was one of the last times I had ever felt true terror.

I pushed the door open without hesitation and stepped in before looking around. I covered my mouth at the sight, not allowing myself to scream. President Snow always did love his mind games.

The room was painted in dark tones that did not match the bright plastic-like intensity usually found in capitol decorating. There were pictures hanging on the walls, nearly covering the wall opposite the bed. The faded gold frames were the first thing you noticed as you stepped into the door, the second thing you noticed were the pictures themselves.

Full colour photographs of all the jobs I had done for the capitol, every victim laid out for all who walked into the door. These were images burned into my mind, the slideshow that played behind my eyes as I fell asleep. I did not know the names of every single person, but I knew their faces.

I had known that Snow had complete control over me, that he knew everything about me and kept his guard dog on a tight leash. But it had never really hit me that he knew all my weaknesses and was ready and prepared to use them against me without hesitation.

I staggered backwards out of the room and into the hallway where those in the dining car looked at me funny. The last thing I saw as I slid down the wall was an action shot, hanging over the bed. My tiny hand was slamming into a grown man's nose, fear evident in my bright eyes. I looked at the ceiling for a few seconds and focused on keeping my breath steady before closing my eyes and rebuilding my cold exterior.

Po came down the hall towards me and looked in the door before quickly slamming it shut. I looked up at him unable to hide the panic in my eyes even while I kept my voice steady.

"We've been set up."

The others had followed behind Po, but had not seen into the room before he had slammed the door. They were watching me with curiosity over what could have shocked me so much.

"Where is Po's room?"

Effie pointed to the door right beside where I was sitting on the floor. I stood up slowly as Po peeked inside the door. He opened the door wider and I could see that the inside was pale and impersonal.

_He's not worried about you. _I spoke in my head.

I could see that the others were curious about what was in my room so I gestured to the door.

"If you really want to see, then just open it." Po frowned at me; I guess he didn't think they should see.

Katniss was the one who opened the door and walked in without hesitation. I watched her as she examined the photograph-covered wall, guessing as to why I had reacted badly, but not fully understanding. Next she looked at the huge shot over the bed and stared at the little girl for a while before looking at me, and then back to the picture.

The others had all followed Katniss into the room and Peeta seemed to realize who the little girl in the picture was a moment after Katniss did. They still didn't seem to understand the significance of the other pictures, although Haymitch looked at the photos with sadness and understanding.

I stepped into the room, this time prepared. I waved my hand around the room while looking Peeta in the eye. "Here is your answer Peeta. This is who I am." I turned towards the wall of all my victims. "And these are the only ones who truly understand what that means."


	4. 4 Fire

Chapter 4 – Fire's POV

Previously-

_I played my part as the happy tribute that everyone expected and handed the microphone to Celia. I smiled at the people in the audience as I completely ignored the reaping of the male tribute._

_Only when I smiled at my fellow tribute and shook his hand did I recognize him as the person from breakfast with the impenetrable mind._

_Shit._

…

We ignored each other as peacekeepers led us side by side into the town hall. We were brought to small waiting rooms that sat next to each other. The furnishings were a horrible red and gold combination, I calmly thanked the guards who had brought me and sat down on firm couch.

I didn't know if anyone would come to say goodbye, the only person I wanted to talk to was Finnick and he would be with me for the duration of my stay in the capitol. My teachers at The Academy would not come to say goodbye, they had already wished me luck, certain I would volunteer.

To my surprise, a little girl with dirty, oversized clothes confidently strode through the door.She must have been one of the children who came for food.

"My name is Hanna." She stated, as she shoved her small hand out towards me.

I lightly gripped her hand and shook it, taken aback by this mystery girl. I found nearly perfect walls constructed around her mind, letting barely a thought through.

I stayed silent for a moment, waiting for some elaboration on who she was.

"I come to get food from you sometimes." Hanna talked in a rush, like the words were overflowing from her mouth. I couldn't help but wonder why she had come to see me; I had refused to become attached to any of the kids. I couldn't form attachments with vulnerable people; they would only end up hurt once the president realised that I might be useful.

"My brother doesn't trust you." She seemed to contemplate her next words carefully. "He says that your father is the one who ruined our lives… and that you are going to be just like him." The little girl said very matter-of-fact. "I don't believe that you are a monster." She rubbed her foot into the carpet beneath her. "I watch people, and I understand much more than people think."

Her previously rigid posture relaxed, even though I could sense that her next words would be serious.

"Everyone expects big things from you, but you still have time to make food for the hungry kids who should be underneath the notice of someone like you. I came here to ask that you protect my brother, he's going with you into the arena and it would mean the world to me if he came back with you, alive." The girl, Hanna, finally looked me in the eyes.

"He is all I have left, bring him home."

I got off of the couch and knelt down next to her; I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a hug even as she flinched away from me. I held onto her until she relaxed then gripped her shoulders lightly to hold her an arms distance from me.

"I promise that I will get your brother out of these games alive."

I dug my bank card out of a pocket as well as the key to my apartment and handed them to the stunned girl.

Next I wiggled an artfully engraved gold band off of my finger and handed the ring to her. It was a family heirloom and the wearer would be recognised as my heir should I die in the games. I would finalise the arrangement in the capitol. I gave her the ring and her eyes widened as she recognised the significance of it.

"I want you to live in my apartment, if anyone tries to stop you, show them the ring and tell them that Fire gave it to you. There is money in the cookie jar on the kitchen counter, go buy some clothes, and then people will be less suspicious of you. After that you can go to the bank and show them both the card and my ring and gain access to my father's fortune."

Hanna looked stunned for a moment before composing herself and giving me a smile.

"You are not the person my brother thinks you are."

I felt a tear fall down my cheek, but the peace keepers had just entered the room, telling us that our time was up. Hanna left the room with a single backwards glance. She didn't say anything out loud but her eyes shone with thanks.

I let a few tears fall. I would like to think this strange little girl was right about me, but I can't help believe that her brother's opinion of me is the truth.

I sat alone in the room for a long time, staring at the walls and keeping my eyes away from the president's portrait. My fellow tribute must have many more visitors than me. Usually we have both of our spots filled by volunteers, but nobody from The Academy wanted to go up against me. I wondered who he was talking to if what his sister said was true and they didn't have any other family than the two of them.

Eventually, a peace keeper came to lead me towards the train. He stopped outside a door to the train and gestured for me to go on in myself. Inside the train Celia, Mags, Finnick and my fellow tribute were waiting. I took a seat opposite the man who would be joining me in the arena.

We must have been in the dining car, because there was bowls and trays with exotic foods. They were probably meant to impress and intimidate the tributes who were entering the capitol for the first time, but I had grown up with this food. I reached for some of the more ordinary food, strawberries with chocolate, and savoured the flavour of one of my favourite treats as I tried to organise my thoughts.

Hanna had just made my life a million times more complicated than it needed to be. I was confident that I could have easily won the games and returned home exactly as my district would have expected of me. There would have been guilt, but it would have been easy to ignore my district partner when all I knew of them was suspicion and a dislike for me with no discernable reason.

But he became a person; a person with family depending on him. Against my better judgement I had made a promise to protect him. I had not yet learned his name and already I was planning my own death so that he might return home.

In the games promises are hard to keep. Allies are hard to keep alive in an everyman-for-themselves death match. Last year was a good example. Rue was dealt a death blow seconds before Katniss was at her side. Peeta would have died if it weren't for the feast near the end of the games. There are a million circumstances that most couldn't hope to control.

I would need to find a hide-out where I could be in everyone's mind, constantly monitoring their thoughts and keeping him alive. It would be very handy if I could gain his trust enough so that he could stay nearby in case I controlling everyone's minds was not enough. But controlling that many people constantly was exhausting, what would happen when I needed sleep? Maybe I could recruit another career and perform a complete mind wash to make them loyal to me so that we could have a guard…

A hand on my shoulder snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up into sea green eyes and saw how concerned Finnick was for me. I spoke into his mind so that no-one else would hear.

"_I made a promise that I don't know if I can keep."_

"_Just focus on bringing yourself back home, alive." _ He projected the thought back to me.

"Did I space out for a while?" I said aloud. The other occupants of the train car would have thought it odd for us to be staring into each other's eyes for extended amounts of time.

Finnick smirked at me and slid into a seat. "Well, seeing as the train left about," He glanced at the watch on his wrist "Ten minutes ago. I would say that you have been a bit absorbed in your thoughts."

Celia gave me a huge smile. "All tributes are a little nervous before the games; the capitol _is _such a different place than even the best of the districts."

I ignored Celia's clueless comment and turned to my fellow tribute.

"I never did catch your name, I'm Fire." I held out my hand towards him.

"Brigan" He shook my hand robotically and forced himself to meet my eyes. Both of us looked at each other before turning to completely ignore each other, refusing to even glance at each other' face.

Finnick looked between the two of us with suspicion. "Do you two know each other?"

Brigan's calm "Maybe" came at the exact same time that I quickly said "No."

Finnick seemed to find this funny and just looked back and forth between us. I turned to glare at Brigan.

"Well I certainly don't have any idea who you are. Nor do I have any idea why you seem to hate me simply for existing." I tried to calm myself down, but Finnick's ever present smirk was not helping.

Brigan remained completely calm. "I have never hated you."

His composure only succeeded in furthering my anger. "Really, so you didn't give me a death-glare while I was feeding your starving little sister. Hanna didn't seem to think anything was wrong with me."

Of course, I was being completely unreasonable. How can I be so frustrated that he hates me and then when he reveals that he does not hate me I try to prove that he was does? It shouldn't matter, but it does. I shouldn't have brought up his sister, but I did. And now, he looked angry.

"_GET OUT OF MY HEAD." _

I stumbled back a step when I realised he hadn't spoken out loud.

"_Your mind is unreachable!" _ I pushed the thought into the forefront of his mind, before the barriers but still within his notice.

His eyes lost focus and I worried that I had accidently damaged his mind in my rage. He shook himself out of it and looked me in the eyes. Though it was plain to see that this argument was not yet over, his eyes still shone with triumph.

"You would do well to stay away from my sister in the future. Though I am curious about how you knew of our relationship." Those words made it very hard to dislike Brigan, keeping his family safe from me, even as he went on a train ride that must have been a one way trip in his mind.

"I made sure that she will be living in luxury until my father's fortune runs out." At this Brigan and Finnick's eyes glanced towards my hand, where my family ring should have been.

"What did you do Fire!?" This came from Finnick, who couldn't seem to decide whether he was angry at my impulsiveness or sad that I didn't expect to survive.

I looked away from him as he realised the promise I had made and my intention to carry it out.

"I CAN'T and I WON'T lose you Fire! You will make it through these games!" It appeared that he had settled on being angry at me.

Brigan's eyes were swirling with emotions at Finnick's outburst. "I see you have decided which one of us will be coming home." He didn't let anything show on his face, his eyes gave him away however.

"Don't you understand what this impulsive, selfless, idiotic girl has been planning at all!?" Finnick was staring at Brigan, completely exasperated. "Your sister went to Fire after the reaping and in all likely hoods begged for your life, and Fire," He turned to me with a full glare "Agreed to protect you instead of surviving herself."

I turned my back on the two men, found the location of my bedroom from Celia's mind and all but ran from the chaotic dining car. When I found the room I slammed the door closed behind me and flung myself onto the plush bedding. When I turned to bury my face into the pillow I noticed a small plush dog with a note attached to it.

I froze; it was a replica of Belle, my first friend. I glanced at the note, it had a rose artfully displayed on the right side and it smelled of blood. There were three words handwritten in the center of the card.

"You will win."

I threw the stuffed animal and the card towards the opposite wall. It made a satisfying thud and slid to the ground. I screamed into the pillow until I ran out of breath. Curling into a ball, I swore to myself that whatever happened from now on, I would not be the capitol's plaything. I would never bow to the president. I will always be a monster, but I will be the monster that lurks in the capitol's nightmares.

I let the storm of thoughts currently raging through my head fall away to sleep.

…

_Icy blue hair slowly being soaked through with blood, pale limp limbs twisted at unnatural angles. I stumbled backwards and Hanna was standing there, staring at me with betrayal. I turned around and the body was now the dead form of Brigan. _

"_You promised!"_

_The words were like a punch to the stomach and I fell to the ground and buried my face in my hands. I gasped and held my hands out in front of me as I realised they were sticky and wet with blood. Immediately I was surrounded by people, they were grabbing me, helping me up, trying to help me, but I was suffocating. _

_I held my hands out in front of me to try and ward off the oblivious strangers, but they couldn't see the blood that was dripping from my fingers. Suddenly President Snow's face was centimeters from mine, he smiled at me._

"_Everything has worked out perfectly, now we can rule over Panem together!" He began to laugh and blood started to drip from his mouth. He seemed unfazed by the coppery liquid flowing past his lips and smiled again, licking the bloodstains from his previously white teeth._

I was shaken awake mid-scream and flinched away from Finnick when he tried to comfort me. I ran to the bathroom and emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. The image of Snow's bloody smile was stuck firmly in my mind.

Finnick stood in the door to the washroom awkwardly. "Do you need anything?"

"I'll be fine, everyone has nightmares sometimes." Finnick had probably had his fair share of nightmares when he got back from the games. "Go back to bed; I'm going to take a shower."

My mind was shouting at me to not let Finnick go, to tell him about my demons. I wanted to break down and cry, to crumble before my best friend and let him put the pieces back together. But I couldn't afford that. Not now.

I was preparing to enter a cruel tournament where the winner was also the sole survivor. I needed to control every thought, emotion and action. I had constructed a persona in District Four, now I had to perform to expectations before the ever-watching cameras. I would be under the scrutiny of the entire country, more importantly I would have all of my movements monitored and judged by the most powerful man in Panem. I wanted _him_ to see unwavering strength. I wanted _him_ to fear me. I was no-one's to control. The president _should_ be afraid, because I would be fighting _him_ until my final breath.

That would keep me going in the following days; I couldn't let myself give into the pressure. It helped me to bury the tiny voice in the back of my mind that still wanted me to allow myself to be comforted. It would be time to face the capitol soon and I needed to be ready.

I started by taking a shower. The warm water was soothing and let me forget the world for a brief amount of time. I combed my hair and brushed my teeth. With a towel, wrapped around myself I found a dresser stocked full of clothing that fit me perfectly. Apparently my first trip into the capitol had been planned out carefully.

I picked out a plain black shirt that fit very loosely and black skinny jeans. My outfit was completely unremarkable, but that would mean that my hair would be the immediate focus of everyone's attention. It would be the first time in over ten years that I let my hair down in public. I had always put my hair in a tight bun if I didn't just completely cover it, but today I was going to show off.

My thick fiery hair was always waist length, whenever it was cut; it grew back to the exact same length overnight. It was as uncontrollable as it was mesmerising. Some people couldn't help but stare at it, even going so far as to walk up to me and pet my head.

My hair was supernatural much like my powers over people's mind. If people did not fall into a trance-like state from staring at my unbelievably coloured hair than I could just take control of their mind myself.

I absolutely despised the affect my hair had on people.

I checked the digital clock sitting on the bedside table and decided that it was a reasonable time to go to the dining car. I systematically removed any emotions still revealed on my face and opened the door.

I had calculated my time right and when I entered the car all of my fellow passengers were arranged around the table apart from Mags. She was probably asleep still. When I entered Celia's chin dropped and her gaze didn't leave my hair as I walked around to sit at the table. Brigan glanced over at me and turned back to his plate, unconcerned and most likely unaffected because of the strength of his mental barriers.

Finnick however, hadn't looked up from his breakfast when I walked in. He was about to say Hello when he finally faced me. The greeting was stuck in his throat and he looked the most shocked of the three.

"You are going to let your hair down?! In the overcrowded train station?!" Finnick appeared to only be concerned for my safety.

Finnick had actually seen my hair down and I had trained him to be able to ignore it as well as my body. He had decent wards around his mind, about the same level as Hanna's. This came from constantly keeping his true emotions hidden, as well as further training from me.

"I want to make an entrance." That wasn't the entire reason, but it was reason enough.

"You have never wanted attention before." Finnick looked at me accusingly.

"How do you suppose you got so many sponsors in your games?" I said it in a mocking voice, but Finnick seemed unfazed.

"Fine, you win. Just stay away from the crowds, okay?" There wasn't any further argument, and for that I was grateful.

Celia chose that moment to finally snap out of her dazed state. She shook her head a bit and refused to even glance at me.

"We should be arriving in the capitol very shortly." She looked at Brigan. "Now tributes, you should go to the window, smile and wave. You need the capitol to like you."

Brigan complied and moved over to stand by the tiny window on the side of the train. I ignored the advice and remained seated.

Brigan turned back to me. "You don't want to show off your hair to the adoring public?" His tone was mocking, but I ignored the hints of sarcasm.

Smirking at him, I acted completely unlike myself. "If they saw me through the window it would ruin the grand entrance."

Finnick frowned but let me continue with the charade that I would be presenting in the capitol. Brigan also decided that it might be best to just ignore me.

The train slowly came to a complete stop and the compartment door opened. Mags appeared in the car and silently went to stand by Finnick. Brigan was the first one out. He acted like the perfect tribute, all smiles and friendly waving. I motioned for the others to lead the way. Finnick helped Mags down the stairs and Celia followed close behind.

I waited as whispers spread through the crowd about the daughter of Cansrel. He was very popular in the capitol.

I stepped down from the train and took a couple steps further down the path that had been cleared for the passengers. I stopped there and let my eyes wander around the crowd. Everyone had become silent upon the big reveal. Ignoring the silence I trained my eyes straight ahead and marched forwards. The only sounds were the soft noise of my shoes on the carpet. There was a camera to my left and I stopped before it and stared into the lens for a moment before continuing on. At the end of the walkway I gracefully slid into the backseat of the black limousine that would be taking me to the training center.

The ride through the heart of Panem was awkwardly silent. I decided to break through and attempt a conversation.

"This is everything my father wanted for me, a limousine through the capitol, adoring fans and video cameras following me." Finnick listened to what I had to say, I hardly ever talked about Cansrel. "But he never understood me, never understood that all I ever wanted was to be normal."

Brigan eyed me carefully. "Your father was the most despicable being in all of Panem." He said it with a calm malice, if a thing is even possible.

I looked down at my hands. "I know"


End file.
